


Odd and Imperfect

by alkjira



Series: Beauty [2]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Body Worship, M/M, Woobie, body image issues, insecure!Bilbo, insecure!Thorin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-21
Updated: 2014-09-21
Packaged: 2018-02-18 06:51:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2339144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alkjira/pseuds/alkjira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The sequel to: <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/1906740">Not Everyone Sees It</a><br/>I'd suggest reading that first.</p><p>In which Thorin continues to think he's ugly, Bilbo hasn't really clued on to this, and both Thorin and Bilbo are rather waiting for the other shoe to drop regarding their relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Odd and Imperfect

**Author's Note:**

> I fairly quickly realised I was going to do a sequel, so I'm glad to have now finished it :)
> 
> Excuse the lack of other characters, just like the first one this wanted to be very Bilbo and Thorin centric, and having the others would mainly just be filler anyway and not add much.

Bilbo hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but even without his ring he could move through the halls of Erebor mostly unnoticed. Feet without boots made very little noise even when you weren’t actually trying to sneak.  
  
At first he hadn’t really been paying attention to the conversation between the two Dwarfs he’d unintentionally been following down the hallway, but once he’d realised just what they had been talking about… then it was impossible not to listen.  
  
Perhaps he should have just turned on his heel and gone the other way, but he hadn’t.  
  
"I feel bad for him, honestly,” the taller Dwarf had said, nodding at his companion. “He’s a hero. And out of everyone he ends up with-"

"He didn't have to agree to the courtship,” the other one shrugged.

"Well, no, but I can see why it would have been awkward not to accept. You've heard the stories as well as I do. He seems very loyal."

"He might just go through with the courting and then call things off? That way no one can say that he didn't try."

"I heard they started shagging already on the quest though."

"Desperation?"

"I don't know, it's not like they were alone out there.”  
  
From there their gossip drifted to which one of the Ri brothers they’d rather have a go with, and Bilbo finally made his feet stop walking and sought refuge in a small alcove halfway hidden by a dark red drapery.  
  
He didn’t think that they really knew what they were talking about, but just the idea that Thorin didn’t truly want to court him… That he was playing at enjoying it only to-

 _‘You should go back to the Shire.’ ‘I want you to leave.’  
  
_ Hearing him say that _once_ had been quite enough. Even if Thorin hadn’t meant it.  
  
Because he had meant it when he said he loved Bilbo, and that he wanted him to stay.  
  
Bilbo wrapped his arms around himself. He had.  
  
-  
  
After that it was as if the glances and whispers were everywhere.  
  
Bilbo occasionally caught people looking at him with something like pity in their eyes and sometimes he even heard what sounded like muffled laughter when he stood at Thorin’s side. But Thorin never seemed to notice. And no one ever said anything to Bilbo's face. Never.  
  
During council meetings or public dinners, or when Bilbo was just strolling through the markets everyone seemed happy about having him there.  
  
That hurt more than if they’d just told him straight to his face that they thought he wasn’t worthy of marrying their King.  
  
Not that Thorin had asked him yet. But that was… that was _fine_.  
  
They were courting. There was no rush. Thorin said that he loved him, he’d asked him to stay. And in the months, oh, now almost a full year actually, since they’d had that discussion in the tent Thorin had been so incredibly loving and attentive. Bilbo didn’t doubt for even a moment that Thorin loved him.

  
But maybe… maybe he was beginning to wonder if that was a good enough reason for the King Under the Mountain to marry a simple Hobbit from the Shire?  
  
-  
  
There were few things in this world that Thorin paid more attention to than Bilbo, so he was quick to notice when Bilbo’s smiles dimmed slightly and when he began to find reasons as to stay in their chambers instead of joining Thorin during meetings or anything that would mean spending time with people who weren’t their friends and family.  
  
Perhaps he was also all the more quick to notice because he’d been waiting for something like it.  
  
He’d not been sure what exactly, only sure that it would end with Bilbo realising that he did not want to spend the rest of his life tied to someone like Thorin. He could easily find someone else.  
  
Someone who wasn’t crippled, ugly, and who lived inside a mountain, not beneath a green hill covered with flowers.  
  
Thorin believed that Bilbo wouldn’t lie to him, so he still loved him, his Hobbit was not shy about telling him that several times each day even. But lately… there had been a hint of sadness in Bilbo’s voice as he’d said the words. Alternatively a trace of forced brightness as if he'd been trying to remember what he should sound like.  
  
It was possible that Bilbo had begun to wish he didn’t love him.  
  
How fortunate then that Thorin had not rushed for them to get married. The last thing he wanted was to bind Bilbo into promises that he would later regret. Not even marriage was necessarily binding, but it would be easier for Bilbo to leave if they'd just been courting. That was much less of a promise to break.  
  
For now, and for however long he had left, Thorin would selfishly allow himself take whatever he was allowed to have from Bilbo. At least, until it became clear that he was hurting Bilbo by doing so. Then Thorin would do what was needed to be sure that Bilbo could go back to his home in peace.  
  
He was selfish enough to want to keep Bilbo by his side, but he wasn’t selfish enough not to let him go if he wished it.  
  
-  
  
The tipping point came one afternoon as they were walking together down the corridors that would take them to the public dining hall.  
  
Every so often Thorin decided that they should make an appearance, and quite often some or most of their  Company showed up to dine with them as well.  
  
Bilbo enjoyed these occasions, even if he preferred to dine alone with Thorin, or in the royal dining halls together with just a _few_ of their friends.  
  
To have dozens and dozens and _dozens_ of Dwarfs together in a room where food was served was rather like it’d been in Bag End when his pantry had been pillaged.  
  
And while that was fine every now and again, Bilbo rather preferred mealtimes when no one would be tempted to walk on the tables. And where shouting wasn’t a prerequisite. Ears shouldn't hurt after a meal, just possibly your stomach in a comfortable way.

They’d been walking arm in arm when Bilbo had felt a Tookish streak grab hold of him, and grinning up at Thorin he’d gently tugged him along to a shadowy little niche in the hallway, raising himself up on his toes to steal a bristly kiss.

Later it struck him as almost laughable, because it was like a mirror image of the last time Bilbo had accidentally heard something he shouldn’t have.  
  
Only this time it started with Bilbo hiding himself away in an alcove.

“Now what is this?” Thorin asked, the hand not holding his cane coming up to brush through Bilbo’s curls.  
  
“I’m having some of my dessert _before_ dinner,” Bilbo informed him. “Just a bit, mind you. Wouldn’t want to spoil my appetite completely.”  
  
Thorin chuckled softly, and when Bilbo tilted up his head for another kiss he leaned down to meet him half-way.

Bilbo wasn’t sure how long they spent trading kisses, probably not that long, because the damaged muscles in Thorin’s thigh usually bothered him if he stood still for too long. But it was long enough that someone came walking through the hallway that had not seen them enter it.

“I don’t know if it’s right of the King to marry him.”  
  
“And I don’t know if I care.”

"That he's a hero for taking back Erebor doesn't make him prettier. I’d not want to marry _him_. Not even-"  
  
“Again, do I look as if I care?”

The two Dwarfs moved on as quick as they’d come, bickering, and Bilbo slowly thawed from the frozen state he’d found himself in upon hearing their words.  
  
Thorin remained as unmoving as Erebor herself, and when Bilbo glanced up at him his face was blank like a marble wall. The scar on it an angry red line through the pale skin.  
  
Moment and moment slipped by, and Bilbo wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but for Thorin not to say _anything_ … that was horrible.  
  
He knew he looked strange to most Dwarfs, but he knew Thorin _liked_ how he looked, and while he didn’t need Thorin to defend him… well, that had certainly not stopped Thorin before. And Bilbo might have come to expect it enough that he now didn't understood why it didn't happen at all.  
  
Then again, perhaps it wasn’t _really_ about looks. If love wasn’t reason enough, looks would not cause Thorin to want to marry him either. So he could be wary about starting any conversation that would have them talking about marriage.  
  
Bilbo bit his lip. “Thorin?”  
  
He wasn’t sure what he was asking. If it was for Thorin to simply deny what had just been said, or…  
  
But he’d not expected to be answered by Thorin’s shoulders slumping, followed by his head as well, as if it was a burden suddenly too heavy for his neck.

"I had hoped you would not have to hear such talk. I'm sorry."

"You’re- sorry?" Bilbo asked cautiously. 

“It- I can’t stop people from talking. But you deserve better than to be mentioned in gossip, I know.” Thorin still didn’t look him in the eyes. "So much better."  
  
Was it horrible of him to wish that Thorin had at least seemed offended on his behalf? He still wasn’t sure why Thorin hadn’t-  
  
“I hope you know I would not fault you for wanting to leave. I-“

“No, wait a moment,” Bilbo said. “I don't think leaving is a good response to people gossiping about me.” Yelling probably wouldn't be a good response either, but-

“About-?” Thorin shook his head. “They were not talking about you."

“They weren’t?”

“They were talking about me.” Thorin finally looked at him again, and the miserable expression on his face was enough to distract Bilbo from his words for a few moments. But only for few moments.  
  
“You think- they were talking about _me_ not marrying _you_ , because you’re not _pretty enough_?” Bilbo had never heard anything quite so ridiculous.

“I-“ Thorin hesitated. “Yes.”  
  
Bilbo thought back to the first conversation he’d overheard. Had they explicitly stated which one of them they’d been talking about when they’d mentioned someone being too loyal to turn down a courtship? He didn’t remember.  
  
All of a sudden Bilbo was furious.  
  
He was going to go and find another dragon to feed those Dwarfs to just in case it _had_ been Thorin they’d been talking about. How dared they! Something of his anger must have shown on his face, because Thorin shook his head again.  
  
“They only speak the truth. I’m not unused to-“  
  
And just like that Bilbo found himself unreasonably angry at Thorin as well.

“Then you think I'm _lying_ when I tell you you're beautiful?”

“I believe that _you_ believe what you’re saying.” Thorin looked down, then back at Bilbo. “And it is only your opinion on the matter which really is of concern to me.”  
  
Thorin’s word had an undertone that suggested that Bilbo might potentially be a little deranged, but he was grateful for it even so.  
  
It all left Bilbo feeling a mix of touched and angry and powerless, and everything rolled up into a tight, confused ball which lodged itself deep in his chest.

Silently he held his hand out for Thorin to take and with unusual meekness Thorin allowed Bilbo to lead him out of the small alcove, through the hallways and back to their chambers. 

-  
  
Even though Bilbo was angry with him, he’d made sure not to walk too fast, and that small kindness was yet another thing that made Thorin fall in love with him all over again.  
  
He wasn’t entirely sure why Bilbo was angry with him, surely nothing he'd said had been that offensive, but regardless, he had a feeling that he’d soon be told all about it. And hopefully given  a chance to make amends.  
  
-  
  
The walk back to their chambers calmed Bilbo’s temper, and once the door had closed behind them, he made sure Thorin sat down in one of the armchairs before sinking down on his knees between Thorin’s legs. He could have just settled on another armchair, but he wanted to stay closer than that, and even though Thorin pretended like it _didn’t_ pain him, having Bilbo in his lap most certainly did.  
  
And apparently it wasn’t just physical pains he kept quiet about either.

“I thought you were angry with me,” Thorin said as Bilbo pointedly took his hand and settled it in his curls, wanting, no _needing_ , to have that connection.  
  
“Then you definitely should stroke my hair,” Bilbo said and leaned a little more of his weight against Thorin’s left leg. “But no, I’m not angry at you. We just seem to be in need of a talk.”  
  
Bilbo sighed as strong fingers began to card through his curls, gently rubbing at his scalp. “I’ve heard talk like that before, but I thought they were talking about how I’m certainly not someone you’d expect to ma- be with a king. A beardless, weak Hobbit. Hardly-“  
  
“If _anyone_ says such things about you,” Thorin said darkly. “Let me have their names and they will not repeat such nonsense.”  
  
“See,” Bilbo said, turning his head to look up at his Dwarf. “This is the problem right here.”  
  
Thorin frowned. “As we are courting it is within my rights to-“  
  
“But you won’t stop gossip about yourself?” Bilbo curled his hand around Thorin’s ankle. “Even when it’s mean and untrue and hurtful?”  
  
“It is- I know that you do not-“ Thorin huffed in frustration. “Hobbits and Dwarfs do not find the same things attractive.”  
  
“Yet you glower at the idea of someone not finding me worthy to be with you?”  
  
“Because that could not be further from the truth,” Thorin explained, his fingers tightening just a little in Bilbo’s curls. “You are brave and beautiful and I could not wish for a better companion.”  
  
“That makes two of us,” Bilbo said and pulled on the fabric of Thorin’s trousers when his Dwarf suddenly found something across the room very fascinating. “Nope, we’re having this talk _now_. I’m beginning to realise it’s been terribly overdue. Except-” Bilbo reached up to rub at his neck which had already began to protest the awkward angle. “Could we lie down instead? My neck is not going to enjoy this if we continue.”  
  
But he still wanted to stay this close to Thorin.  
  
-  
  
Lying fully dressed on their bed, except for his boots, what not something Thorin did a lot of. Especially not when Bilbo was right there with him as that usually was a good incentive for getting undressed.  
  
But the serious look on his Hobbit’s face wasn’t one he was used to seeing in bed either.  
  
-  
  
“Let’s see,” Bilbo murmured, and reached out to stroke his fingers down Thorin’s jaw. “First I’d like to point out that I love you, that I never expected to do so, that I never thought you’d return my feelings, and that I sometimes still wake up and wonder why I out of all people in this world got this lucky.  
  
“Ah,” Bilbo said, pressing his finger to Thorin’s lips when they parted. “Still my turn.”  
  
Thorin hadn’t actually _lost_ one eye in the battle that was now called that of the Five Armies, but he’d certainly lost the use of it. Unlike his right eye, the left had a silvery sheen to it. In a way it was quite beautiful, and not only because it was a part of Thorin, like his scars were.  
  
Bilbo slowly moved his fingers up to brush over the still angry-looking, red remainders of the wound that started at Thorin's left temple and trailed all the way down to his cheek. He knew that the loss of vision bothered Thorin, because losing an eye meant that you needed to almost start over again when it came to weapons training to get used to your now limited vision. And Thorin’s left arm and right leg both having been broken also meant there were other changes needing to be done to his fighting.  
  
Bilbo knew that Thorin's ability in battle was something his lover had been proud of. And to have lost even some of it...  
  
“The second point I’d like to make, is that I love you more now than I did yesterday, and loved you more yesterday than I did the day before that. And I've a fair idea about how I'll feel tomorrow."

He trailed his fingers down Thorin's arm, to twist their fingers together.  
  
"The third point, and this I probably should have made clear a long time ago, is that yes, I find you more beautiful than anything else I’ve ever seen, and if other people do not agree, they’re the blind ones, and not me.” Bilbo nodded as best as he could when lying down. “And now it’s your turn. If you want. Because I’ve got plenty of other things I’d like to say, but it’s only fair to take turns.”  
  
“I don’t know what to say,” Thorin said quietly, and Bilbo smiled softly at him.  
  
“What was it that you were going to say before? When I so rudely interrupted you.”  
  
“That you’re not the lucky one, I am,” Thorin said, and that was so sweet Bilbo _had_ to kiss him.  
  
“We can both be lucky,” he murmured against Thorin’s lips. “That’s quite all right for me.” He stole another kiss – had to keep up his reputation as a master burglar after all –and then pulled back again.  
  
“My fourth point-“ Bilbo frowned. “I think I’ll stop the numbers now, or I’m bound to make a mess out of it sooner or later. But regardless, you mentioned me leaving.”  
  
A stillness came over Thorin, and Bilbo did not like it one bit. “See, this is part of the reason I was a little annoyed with you, because I’ve told you before, I’m not going anywhere unless they drag me kicking and screaming. Unless-“  
  
“Unless?” Thorin said, voice carefully bland.

“Unless you really wanted me to go,” Bilbo said. “And even then I’d probably need to ask someone to strap me to a pony and send me off.” He sighed. “I’ll be entirely honest. The ones I heard gossiping before today made me wonder if there is a reason why we’re not yet wedded, even though we’ve shared the same chambers for almost a year now. A reason why you've not asked.”  
  
“I would not wish to ask anything of you that you’d come to regret,” Thorin said carefully, and while Bilbo usually _wanted_ Thorin to think a little more before he spoke, especially if there were Elves around, it was maddening that he’d taken that lesson to heart just now.  
  
Bilbo could hear a thousand things unsaid in that short sentence, and none of it particularly pleasant.  
  
“Right,” Bilbo said. “Then proper protocol will have to excuse me, because then I’ll just ask you to marry me. And on my head be it if _you_ come to regret it.”  
  
Thorin blinked at him. “You can’t ask me, I’m the king.”  
  
“You’ll find that I just did,” Bilbo said and turned his nose up. “But if you’d like, we can come back to that later. I had a few more things I felt I needed to make clear. Well, one promise I’d like for you to make, and one clarification.”  
  
“What is the promise?” Thorin asked, and some of the stillness had crept back into him.  
  
“That if you ever do want me to leave, you’ll tell me. And I would promise the same thing. So unless either of us say anything, we can just assume that both of us are exactly where we want to be.” Bilbo frowned slightly at his own words. “And I didn’t mean that you should ever leave Erebor, I meant that if I for some reason needed to leave, I would tell you.”  
  
“I don’t want you to leave.”  
  
The corner of Bilbo’s mouth quirked up. “That’s nice to hear, but it doesn’t really make any difference to you promising me to let me know if that changes.”  
  
-  
  
“I-“ Thorin bit his tongue just before he told Bilbo that he would _never_ want him to go. It was true, but it was not fair to place that burden on him, if he did one day decide to leave. But perhaps that was really an 'if' and not a 'when'. “I promise.”  
  
“Thank you,” Bilbo said, smiling warmly at him. “And I promise as well. Should we sign a contract of some sort? I’m sure Balin could prepare one. Oh, are there contracts involved in marriage?”  
  
Thorin snorted, despite himself. “Actually yes, there are.”  
  
“Really?” Bilbo said. “I guess it shouldn’t surprise me.” He looked a bit apprehensive. “Many? I just wouldn’t want to be stuck with paperwork on a day that can be spent on much more enjoyable things.”  
  
“Would that be the wedding feast or what comes after?” Thorin asked.  
  
Bilbo smiled a little sheepishly. “Um, both?”  
  
“I suspected as much.”  
  
“While on the subject of such things,” Bilbo said and crept a little closer. “The last thing I wanted to do was to show you just how beautiful you are, and then we can go and harass the cooks for scraps.”  
  
Not knowing what to say to Bilbo’s first statement Thorin focused on the second. “If I ask them they’ll make us something fresh to eat.”  
  
“It’s hardly their fault we were delayed to dinner,” Bilbo protested. “So they shouldn’t have to work to make up for it.”  
  
He inched closer still, until Thorin had him pressed up along his front. His arm immediately came up to wrap around Bilbo’s waist, and Bilbo made a small contented sound.  
  
"Besides, if we work up an appetite it won't matter much what they feed us."  
  
-  
  
“I’ve tried to figure out if there’s any part of you that I don’t like,” Bilbo murmured as he began to undo the laces on Thorin’s tunic. “Because I _could_ tell you all the parts that I do like very much, but that is a terribly long list. So it seemed reasonable to try and find something I didn’t like.” He lowered his head and pressed his kiss to the hollow of Thorin’s throat. “But it was a miserable failure. Did you know that you’ve even got attractive elbows? It’s just not reasonable.”  
  
“My elbows?” Thorin asked, and Bilbo nodded earnestly.  
  
“And that knobbly bit on your wrist where the bone is? I’m fairly sure that’s not supposed to be as lovely as it is.” Then Bilbo’s expression grew serious. “I don’t mind if other people do not find you as beautiful as I do. It’s their loss. But you agreeing with them.” He gently tapped his finger over Thorin’s heart. “That will not do.”  
  
He did not give Thorin time to protest any of this, and instead stretched up to kiss him.  
  
“I’ve tried to _show_ you,” Bilbo murmured between kisses. “But I’m not sure you’ve been paying attention. Let’s try this instead.”  
  
“What?” Thorin asked, eyes dark as Bilbo moved to straddle his waist.  
  
“If people have told you that you’re not beautiful, it’s only fair if I tell you that you are. More than fair, since I’ve got the right of it.”  
  
“Bilbo,” Thorin gently stroked his hands up and down Bilbo’s sides. “I don’t mind-“  
  
“ _I_ mind,” Bilbo sniffed. “So you can just not-mind me telling you that you’re beautiful for a bit. Please and thank you.”  
  
Bilbo was surprised when a chuckle made its way out from Thorin’s chest.  
  
“Just like I’m not supposed to mind that you took it upon yourself to propose to a king?”  
  
“You’ve only got yourself to blame,” Bilbo said archly as he undid the last of the laces on the tunic. “I gave you plenty of time.”  
  
While Thorin had been recovering he’d had trouble dressing in his normal clothes as pulling on a shirt had been difficult both due to his ribs and broken arm. This had led to something as wonderful as tunics with laces that started at the throat and continued all the way down to the hem, so now that Bilbo had untied the last string, Thorin’s chest was completely bared to him.  
  
“You’ve a beautiful chest.”  
  
Bilbo flattened his hands on it, brushing his fingers through wiry hair.  
  
Just like the on Thorin’s head, his chest hair was a mix of dark and silver, and it was thickest just over the place where his chest was broadest, then narrowing off in a trail that disappeared into his trousers. “And I love it. And I love all the scars, and every mark, because they show that you’re strong, and still here with me.” Bilbo smiled a little teasingly and stroked his fingers over a small scar on the side of Thorin’s stomach. “Except maybe this. This I’m only slightly fond of, because you really should have listened to Dwalin and not tried to climb that statue. It was entirely unnecessary.”  
  
“I was twenty,” Thorin grumbled, but there was a soft look in his blue eye as he looked up at Bilbo, and Bilbo imagined the silver one had a fond one as well. "And you should not believe everything Dwalin tells you."  
  
“Just don’t do it again,” Bilbo cautioned. “Or I’ll tell on you to Dwalin, or Balin, or your sister!.”  
  
Thorin snorted. “Fine.”  
  
“Good,” Bilbo said. “Let’s continue then. Your arms. And your shoulders. All gorgeous. I’m never quite sure if I want to try and forbid you to wear shirts and long sleeves, or if I want to make it mandatory as I don’t think I’d get anything else done if faced with the opportunity to gawk at you like a silly tween.”  
  
He ran his hands over said shoulders and down Thorin’s arm, not stopping until he covered Thorin’s hands with his own where they rested on his waist.  
  
“Your hands," Bilbo continued. "If I had to pick favourites, your hands would be a definite contender for that spot. Sometimes when you touch me I think I’ll just melt and dribble down to the floor.”

“I like it when you touch me too,” Thorin said softly, voice a low rumble in his chest, and Bilbo did not fail to note that this was the closest Thorin had come to accepting a compliment thus far, and it was one not relating to looks, but instead relating to skill.  
  
Still, Bilbo felt confident that he’d eventually get Thorin to see sense. It might take some time, but he was beginning to have faith that they’d really have that time.  
  
Besides, it wasn’t like it was a hardship, getting to ramble on about how beautiful his a lover he had.  
  
“It all works out very nicely then,” was all Bilbo said and leaned down to brush their lips together. “I love your lips too,” he whispered. “Against mine, against my skin, on my-“  
  
“Yes?” Thorin asked when Bilbo hesitated over the last work, and he was _smirking_.  
  
“My _cock_ ,” Bilbo said and narrowed his eyes. “Just because I was raised not to use such language-“  
  
“Then what do you call the birds that are not hens?” Thorin asked innocently.  
  
It was an old argument, and instead of continuing on the beaten path Bilbo huffed and squirmed down the bed to deal with Thorin’s trousers.  
  
Getting trousers, pants and socks off someone who was already lying down was never going to be a study in grace and elegance, but Bilbo thought he managed well enough. As they were hopefully going to go and have something to eat later he made sure to fold all of Thorin’s clothes neatly and put them away just to the side of the bed.  
  
When he looked back at Thorin, his lover was looking at him with a smile lurking around the corner of his mouth, but he made no comment, and Bilbo hurried to take off his own clothes, giving Thorin a pointed look as folded them as well.  
  
“If you did not wear socks,” Bilbo complained as he stretched out next to Thorin again. “Undressing you would be that bit quicker.”  
  
“Not all of us can be blessed with feet as yours,” Thorin said, stroking his hand down Bilbo’s back.  
  
“I suppose so,” Bilbo said and sighed exaggeratedly. “Your feet are dreadfully cute though.”  
  
“Cute?”  
  
“Yes, with your small toes, and the lack of hair, and how you are so terribly ticklish.”  
  
“I’m not ticklish,” Thorin protested, and Bilbo snorted.  
  
“No, you always just feel like squirming when I touch your feet.”  
  
“I’m not ticklish,” Thorin repeated, stubborn. “Nor am I _cute_.”  
  
“Hmm,” Bilbo said tactfully. “Have I already told you how much I love your hair?” He brushed his hand through the curls on Thorin’s chest again, letting it creep up to curl his fingers around a braid.  
  
“You are changing the subject.”  
  
“And you will let me unless you want me to prove that you are ticklish,” Bilbo said and tugged ever so lightly on the braid he was holding.  
  
It was Thorin’s turn to hum noncommittally.  
  
For a while it continued like that, Bilbo kissing and stroking his way over, up and down Thorin’s body, keeping up a steady stream of praises and observations of all the ways he found it beautiful and pleasing.  
  
Eventually Bilbo found himself between Thorin’s legs again, Thorin’s hand in his hair, but now Bilbo was kneeling on a bed and not the floor, and a certain part of Thorin that he enjoyed very much was desperately demanding his attention.  
  
-  
  
Thorin’s eyes fell shut as Bilbo’s tongue began to trace over the head of his cock, and his hips twitched at the happy little moan his Hobbit made.  
  
Before Bilbo he had thought himself rather skilled at this sort of lovemaking, but as was his custom, his lover had managed to surprise him.  
  
Trying to breathe deeply and evenly to avoid panting like a dog, Thorin distracted himself by running his fingers through Bilbo’s curls, pausing to tease a finger over the lobe of Bilbo’s ear, which prompted another pleased little sound.

Too say that Thorin was… overwhelmed by everything Bilbo had told him would not be an embellishment. It was not just his lover’s touch that had his head spinning, but right now that did manage to drown out most of everything else.  
  
What would come after this, Thorin could deal with as it appeared.  
  
-  
  
“And- ah, your voice,” Bilbo said as he rocked against Thorin, trying to rub their hard lengths against each other but mostly ending up rubbing his cock against Thorin’s stomach and vice versa. “In principle not part of the way you look, I know, but-“  
  
Thorin groaned and cupped his hand to Bilbo’s face, thumb brushing over his bottom lip.  
  
“How can you still be talking.”  
  
“Because I’ve- oh, things left to say.”  
  
“No more talking,” Thorin said, and then hands were coaxing Bilbo further up Thorin’s body, enough so they could kiss.

Which also wasn’t a hardship, so Bilbo twined his arms around Thorin’s shoulders and went with it.  
  
-  
  
"Oh, I love you, I love," Bilbo babbled into Thorin's ear as his seed slicked Thorin's fist. "Thorin!"  
  
"Yes," Thorin promised as he kept stroking himself, Bilbo shuddering in his arms as his still hard cock rubbed against Thorin's.  
  
Things got a little wetter and slicker still and lost in his pleasure-daze Thorin first thought he'd manage to come without knowing it, but it was Bilbo shuddering one last  time, hands digging into Thorin's arms as red lips fell open in a silent gasp.  
  
The look in Bilbo's dark eyes was what finally brought Thorin the rest of the way over the that sweet edge.  
  
-

“I love you,” Bilbo whispered again, and cuddling closer as Thorin’s arms tightened around him.  
  
“I love you too.”

He considered telling Thorin again about any and all the ways he was beautiful, but in the end decided not to .  
  
Instead he petted whatever bit of skin he could reach and rubbed his cheek against Thorin’s chest.  
  
“I’m hungry.”  
  
Bilbo smiled as Thorin’s laugh rumbled like a pleased cat beneath his ear.

**Author's Note:**

> I always find beauty in things that are odd and imperfect – they are much more interesting. – Marc Jacobs


End file.
